


You Make Me Better

by TotidemVerbis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Post Infinity War, SUPER domestic, everyone is happy and alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 04:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotidemVerbis/pseuds/TotidemVerbis
Summary: The moments that turned Ironman and Dr. Strange into Tony and Stephen.





	1. Moment of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@syn-a-min](http://www.syn-a-min.tumblr.com) on Tumblr because she is absolutely amazing. Go tell her hi and that she's awesome. 
> 
> This takes place after Infinity War and explains absolutely nothing. It's just Tony and Stephen having a quiet moment.

Eight days.

One hundred ninety-two hours. 

Eleven thousand five hundred twenty minutes. 

That is how long Tony has been back on _his_ Earth. That is how long the world has made sense again. Everyone they lost has been returned, full pardons all around, and the Avengers Compound is officially full. He can't seem to summon the energy to kick the Guardians out. Not yet anyway. He needs Rocket's input on a project. 

Tony knows exactly how long it has been since the world was set to rights, but he can't remember how long he has been standing in front of his bathroom mirror. The Compound is quiet, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is looking after everyone while they sleep or don't sleep, and Tony waits for his home to feel empty. It should be empty, because Pepper isn't here. They said their goodbyes back when the universe was still wrong and when Tony was too busy to think about Pepper not being at home. Tony expects emptiness but only feels relief. Pepper deserves better than the destruction he brings her. 

"Geniuses shouldn't look that confused while brushing their teeth." The quiet voice is a sleepy rumble , and Tony's brows draw tight as he sees Strange's face in the mirror. His brushing becomes almost violent as Strange holds his gaze and smiles, a small uptick to one corner of his lips, and he scowls around his toothbrush and a mouthful of white foam before breaking eye contact. It feels like admitting defeat. 

"Can't you hocus pocus yourself somewhere that I'm not?" Tony asks after thoroughly rinsing his mouth. 

"That would defeat my purpose." Strange is standing in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed and one shoulder touching the doorway, but the relaxed posture doesn't fool Tony. Strange is holding tension everywhere and only attempting to look at ease. They're all pretending.

"Which is?" Tony is suddenly aware of the cool tiles under his bare feet, of the feeling of fine cotton trailing across the top of his foot as he switches his weight, and Strange's shoulders drop as he smiles wide enough to show a hint of teeth. 

"To utterly _destroy_ you in chess tonight." His voice drops an octave on just one word, and Tony's natural response to the challenge is a raised eyebrow and a smirk he perfected as a teenager. What isn't a natural response is the way his stomach tightens and his chest heats. Strange turns so that his back is pressing into the doorjamb and he extends one arm out to gesture out into Tony's private room. 

Instead of replying, Tony slips around Strange and catalogs the way the sleeve of his old soft robe catches on Strange's dark sweater. The heat in his chest must be spreading because he could have sworn he felt the warmth of Strange's body as he passed by. They've never been close enough for Tony to know if Strange is warm under his cold demeanor. (Is he cold though? Or is Tony just remembering early icy stares and sharp words?)

The chess set is already set up at the bar, two stools on either side, and Tony slumps against the counter but doesn't reach for a drink. Not tonight. Not any night since they all came back. Not since watching in disbelief as Peter stumbled into his arms and Strange met his eyes over the top of the kid's head. Strange has stopped by every night since they moved to the Compound to play chess, sometimes without ever saying a word. Tony doesn't even bother trying to lock him out. Locks don't work against Strange, and Tony is still too tired from saving the universe to teach himself to be a magician. 

"You're quiet tonight," Strange muses as he slips onto his own stool. 

As the game starts, Tony begins saying statistics and probabilities out loud. When the man across from him only gives him one of those infuriating half-smiles, Tony decides to get serious. He describes all of his current projects in excruciating detail and then can't even get frustrated when Strange nods in understanding and asks intelligent questions about things completely out of his fairy-ring field. Instead, Tony watches Strange's hands as his lips and tongue form words that come as easy to him as pulling oxygen into his lungs. Their chess board isn't normal. (What is anymore?) Tony moves his pieces with specially made nanobots while Strange uses witchcraft. Tony keeps his arms crossed and leaning against the bar, and his eyes watch Strange move his hands through the air to move his pieces. Surgeon's hands are precise hands, but Strange's movements have a sense of fluidity to them. 

"You don't remember anything?" The question startles Strange, which Tony didn't know was possible, and the sorcerer's hand flinches. The chess piece hits the bar and rolls, and Tony returns it to its rightful place on the board without looking away from Strange's face. 

"Nothing. None of us do." It's a quiet promise, meant to placate, and it usually works. The others all say they remember nothing, and the ones who'd been left behind have stopped asking. Except for Tony apparently. 

"I forfeit. You win. Teleport yourself out," Tony says and pushes himself to his feet. His goal is to reach his bedroom and try to sleep tonight, but he only makes it as far as the couch before his body decides it's time to be horizontal. He flops onto the soft cushions, presses his head back against the little throw pillow tucked into the corner, and flings an arm over his eyes. This will do for tonight. 

"You never forfeit." The voice is coming from behind the couch, there's a quiet creak like Strange is propping himself up against the back of the couch, and Tony groans but doesn't move his arm off his eyes. He doesn't want to encourage the wizard. 

"I'm too tired to play tonight, Strange." Tony puts some honey into his voice as he stretches to get more comfortable, and it feels like his bones are sinking and pulling him down. 

"You can call me Stephen now." Everyone at the Compound is on a first name basis. It started when Steve stood in front of him while everyone watched and asked if they could come home. They'd worked as a team to get everyone back and then to pardon heroes who never should have been labeled criminals, but Steve had called him by his name and asked if they could come home now. Tony had said yes without even thinking about it, and now a creepy wizard is staring at him as he tries to sleep on his perfectly comfortable couch. 

"Portal yourself to the moon, Stephen." Tony's so tired that his words are slurring a little, and he's finally realizing how long it's been since he closed his eyes. He's still wound up tight, muscles and nerves like coils under his skin, but he thinks he can sleep now. 

For a moment, one blissful moment, Tony thinks that Str-Stephen has left. It's blessedly quiet, and Tony even stretches his toes as he starts to burrow deeper into the couch. That's when he realizes that Stephen hasn't left, just moved. His toes press against a soft sweater, meaning that Strange is sitting next to his feet now, and Tony's knees bend just a little as he pulls his legs up. 

"I'm only going to tell you one more time to move it." The couch shifts again, and Tony holds perfectly still as he takes in the new arrangement. He's still stretched out along the couch, one arm over his eyes and the other across his stomach, and his head is now pillowed in a lap. _Stephen's_ lap. He starts to protest, loudly, but his lips are sealed shut.

"You've used up all your opportunities to tell me to move. Rest, Tony."

He wants to argue, he always wants to argue, but he only parts his lips for a moment before going silent. There's so many people in the Compound now, but Tony hasn't been this close to anyone. Only Rhodey and Stephen have been in his private room, and Tony is tired. Tired of fighting. After all he's done, maybe he's earned just a moment of peace. This moment. 

Tony's on the edge of sleep, drifting in that space of low awareness, when he feels the first touch against his hair. The touch is more tentative than he would have expected if he'd ever thought about this situation, and he's just exhausted enough to push into the light touch. There's a moment of hesitation and then fingers are combing through his messy hair. Fingertips are firm against his scalp, massaging and soothing, and Tony turns. His nose brushes against soft cotton from a dark sweater, and he slowly rocks onto his side and curls his legs up to get more comfortable. 

"Tell me again." Tony is so close to that dark edge that he's not even sure if he said the words, and he can feel the faint shaking of Stephen's fingers as they curl around his hair. Tony thinks he did say it, and he thinks he'll be able to rest if he just _hears_ it. 

"There was no other way."

No other way...Tony did what he was supposed to do, so that means he's where he's supposed to be. He got it right, and he has earned his moment of peace. This moment, with graceful hands in his hair and Stephen's heat keeping him warm.


	2. Moment of Clarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I wrote another chapter. No warnings because it is pure fluff.
> 
> Story title comes from _Better_ by SYML. (You should totally listen to it because it really fits this wonderfully weird ship that I am now addicted to.)

It keeps happening. Not every night, not even every other night, but it happens often enough that Tony starts to expect it. Doesn't entertain the thought of pushing away from it or finding ways to avoid it, because Tony could avoid these situations if he wanted to. That's the thing. He doesn't want to. It doesn't happen so often that it becomes overwhelming, but it does happen just enough to become comfortable. Familiar. 

"They destroyed an entire wing," Tony groans out. He's lying stretched out on his favorite couch, eyes tightly shut with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and the back of his head is resting against Stephen's thigh. Speaking of the wizard, he has one hand buried in Tony's hair so he can lightly massage his scalp and he's holding up a book covered in strange symbols with his other hand. 

"You can afford to redecorate," Stephen says and flips a page without removing the hand slowly massaging Tony's migraine away. 

"You're missing the bigger picture. They destroyed, an entire wing, of my compound." Tony draws the sentence out to emphasize the magnitude of crazy he has had to deal with today, but all Stephen does is hum a little. "Four people destroyed an entire wing of a Stark compound."

"I thought it was the Avengers Compound and aren't they super soldiers?" Tony cracks an eye open, but Stephen isn't paying him any attention. He's completely absorbed in his book even while his fingers gently twist around thick sections of washed-clean hair. 

"Only Rogers and Barnes are. Wilson and Barton are technically only human. That's not the point. The point is-"

"Destroyed. Compound. I heard you. Tony?" He opens both eyes now that Stephen is actually looking down at him, not at his weird little spellbook, and there's a look in his blue eyes that Tony can't readily identify. Possibly amusement laced with fondness. 

"Hmm?" Tony asks when Stephen just continues to stare down at him. His fingers are moving in lazy circles now, soothing the ache in his head, and Tony takes a second to wonder when this became normal. It's been a little over six months since the first time he was in this position, but it still feels new even while feeling natural.

"Rest. You haven't slept in two days, and I'm sure the Captain will oversee all repairs." Tony hates it when Stephen is logical and right. It doesn't give Tony enough reason to argue with him. Well, he can't argue about Steve taking care of the repairs. Because Steve already said he would. He can, however, argue with the first point.

"You expect me to rest while still wearing a three piece suit?" Tony asks and smiles as Stephen scowls. 

Tony returned to the Compound after doing a small press conference, that went surprisingly well, only to find one wing of Avengers Compound destroyed. Just a small training exercise that got out of hand. Tony might have believed Steve if Sam and Clint hadn't been giggling like children while Bucky avoided his eyes. After listening to apologies and promises of everything returning to its former state, he trudged to his room and collapsed on his couch. His room had been empty when he walked inside, but a lap had cushioned his head when he fell onto the couch. Stephen had been reading his book like he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere, and Tony ignored the sudden appearance after Stephen started playing with his hair. 

Now here they are, like it's just any other Thursday. 

"Do you ever sleep in your bed?" It's not the first time Stephen has asked this particular question. The two of them always seem to wind up on the couch, where Tony usually falls asleep, and Stephen has woken him up from odd sleeping positions in his lab more than once. Codes and locks keep everyone else out of his lab, but he still hasn't found a way to wizard-proof the place yet.

"It's too far away," Tony says with a little bit of a whine.

_"It's too empty,"_ is what he thinks but can't bring himself to say out loud. 

"I didn't peg you as the lazy type." They both know that isn't true. Tony is always in motion. He rarely slows down physically and his mind is always in overdrive. Lazy is not a word that describes Tony Stark.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Tony's tone is a little smug as he lets his eyes close again, and that is a mistake. Tony has barely even started to relax again when he feels it, the warm shift of magic sweeping over his body, but he keeps his eyes closed as he catalogs the changes.

His shoes and socks are gone, so he can feel the soft material covering the plush couch cushions under his bare heels. His perfectly tailored slacks have been replaced by silk, a pair of his own pajama pants if he's assuming correctly. The top half of his body feels almost naked after wearing a suit all day. (The Ironman suit might technically be heavier, but he always feels the weight of his buttoned-up shirts more.) Soft cotton is covering his torso and his arms, so it's not one of his well-worn tees. When he takes in a long breath after Stephen presses against just the right spot near his left temple, he smells...honeyed tea and magic. He peeks an eye open and glances down, and that is definitely not one of his sweaters. It's a little loose on him, especially in the shoulders, and he tugs the dark gray sleeves down over his hands. Why is Tony wearing one of Stephen's sweaters?

"You're thinking too much, Tony. Rest."

"Make me." It comes out petulant and mumbled, since Tony is already well on his way to falling asleep, and the last thing he hears is Stephen humming quietly to himself as he reads.

Tony wakes up sixteen hours later in his own bed. The Compound is back in one piece, FRIDAY has a backlog of messages waiting for him, and the sweater he's wearing still smells like magic and honey.

**.xXx.**

"Mister Stark?! Did I get this right?!" Tony glances up from the book he's reading, an actual physical book that Stephen left on his couch four days ago, and he sees Peter walking on the ceiling. No, wait, he's holding out a notebook with words scribbled all over it. When Tony circles his finger in the air, Peter gets the hint and turns the notebook so that Tony can actually read it.

"Is this your homework?" Tony's sitting out in one of the open dens of the Compound, and he can hear Sam and Bucky cheering as Natasha and Carol play some kind of video game. He's not sure why Peter is walking on the ceiling or why he's asking Tony about his history homework instead of Steve, who is just watching the others yell, and he raises a brow at Peter's upside-down face.

"Reverse those dates." The voice comes from over Tony's shoulder, and he doesn't even have to look to know that Stephen is leaning against the couch behind where Tony is sitting.

"Thanks, Mister Strange!" Peter yells and runs back to the other side of the room. While still attached to the ceiling.

"It's Doctor!" Stephen yells after him.

"You know, I have a couple of PhDs too and you don't see me lording it over everybody," Tony says and makes a show of looking down at the book still clasped in his hands. 

"Because you're such a paragon of humility," Stephen drawls. Tony turns his head to smile as innocently as he's capable and notices the dark smudges under Stephen's eyes. It's been four days since Stephen's last visit and it looks like the wizard hasn't had a second of sleep since his last visit.

Stephen has one arm braced behind Tony's shoulders, and he's leaning over the back of the couch to look at the book Tony's holding. There are notes scribbled in the margins in Stephen's spiky scrawl, and Stephen explains his thoughts a little more coherently than his notes do. Tony adds in his own two cents, but he can tell that Stephen is nearly asleep on his feet. So when he reaches the end of the section he's reading, he closes the book and yawns as he gets to his feet. 

"Quick game of chess before nap time?" Tony asks and looks over at Stephen. 

"You're on, Stark," Stephen says and starts to leave the room. He pauses in the doorway to look over his shoulder, and he spots Peter hanging behind Bucky and cheering the old geezer on.

"Peter! Do not stay up late or I will call Aunt May! Captain! He's your responsibility!" Tony yells before leaving the room. He hears Peter calling out goodnights to him and Stephen, and Stephen is quiet as they slowly walk to Tony's room. Once they're inside, Tony drops the book onto the table in front of his couch and then collapses onto the couch with a quiet huff. 

"Chess?" Stephen sounds utterly confused, and Tony smiles sheepishly up at the half-asleep wizard. He can't tell Stephen to go to sleep, the man never listens to him, but Tony's sure that he'll fall asleep as soon as he gets comfortable on the couch.

"I decided to skip straight to the main course." That gets a small strained smile out of Stephen, and Tony has to lift his upper body so that Stephen can sit at the end of the couch. He falls back so that his head lands on Stephen's thigh, and fingers automatically spear through his hair.

Tony keeps his eyes open as fingers slowly comb through his hair, and he watches as Stephen struggles to keep his eyes open. Tony questions him about what he'd already read, and Stephen's blinks get longer as his words get quieter. Tony is still wide awake when Stephen finally succumbs to sleep, but he holds still for several minutes instead of getting up. Stephen's head is tipped back against the couch, mouth slightly parted, and quiet breaths are the only sounds in the room. This is the first time that Stephen has fallen asleep on the couch instead of him, so Tony enjoys it for a moment before slowly easing off of the couch. 

Sleeping on the couch is comfortable, Tony would know, but Stephen doesn't look all that comfortable. How long has it been since the wizard had any real sleep? Tony's going to have a talk with Wong about keeping a better eye on Doctor Sorcerer Supreme before he goes and does something stupid from a lack of sleep. Now, what to do with him? He could coax him into stretching out on the couch, but nothing really compares to sleeping in a bed. Not even Tony's ridiculously comfortable couch. 

A flash of red catches Tony eye, and he sighs as he notices the cloak now floating behind the couch. Stephen is wearing civilian clothes, loose slacks and a plain tee under a cardigan of all things, but it looks like the cloak followed him. (Tony doesn't actually dislike the cloak. The piece of fabric is more intelligent than most of the people that Tony has to deal with.) The idea comes to him quickly, and he props his hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at the cloak floating next to the end of the couch.

"Can you move him onto the bed without waking him up?" If Tony is reading the cloak correctly, it's offended that Tony thinks it can't complete such a simple task. The cloak wraps around Stephen and gently eases him into the air, and Tony walks in front of them towards his room. He opens the door and flips the blanket back, and Stephen makes a quiet snuffling sound as he's laid on the bed. Tony pulls his shoes off and then covers him with the blanket, and the cloak moves to hover next to where Tony is standing.

"Are you going to guard him now? Or go hang out in my closet? I just got a new-" The cloak flaps at him and then moves to spread out over Stephen, and Tony considers the conversation closed. 

"There's a cloak sleeping in my bed sassier than me and it's cuddling a wizard. I should have a PhD in Weird by now. FRIDAY, remind me to talk to Bruce about creating a PhD for Weird," Tony says as he walks back out into the main part of his room. 

"Of course, boss." Tony's about to collapse onto the couch again, maybe do a little more reading before falling asleep himself, when he notices the paper on the floor in front of his door. 

"FRIDAY?" he asks as he walks closer to the door.

"Delivery from Captain Rogers," is the exact response he was expecting. Tony bends just enough to pick up the piece of paper, make that two pieces of paper, and he scans the writing as he walks back to the couch.

"Carol beat Bucky in the finals. I'll try to keep the next training session under control. Peter's gone to bed. You should relax more," Tony says aloud as he skims the letter. The prose is actually a little nicer than that, but Tony's paraphrasing. "Relax more? What the hell does that mean?"

Tony's sitting on the couch when he moves the letter out of the way, and he recognizes Steve's artwork immediately. In the past several months, Steve has given little drawings to everyone in the Compound. Usually moments captured around the Compound. Tony's got a piece of Steve's artwork pinned to his fridge door of Peter dressed in a three piece suit with a fake goatee drawn on, kid thinks he's hilarious, so this isn't Tony's first gift from Steve. It isn't what he expected to see though. 

It's from earlier, which means that Steve must have been drawing while the others competed in some kind of video game tournament. It's a picture of Tony sitting on the couch in the den, legs crossed under him since he's wearing old jeans, with a book open in his lap. Stephen is leaning over the couch behind him, with one arm over the back of the couch to point at something in the book, but Tony keeps getting stuck on the little details.

He's wearing Stephen's sweater, and it's loose enough to expose a small curve of his collarbone. Stephen is leaning his head towards Tony's, and there's a lock of salt and pepper hair brushing against Tony's temple. They're both smiling, small and subtle but still smiling, and they look...happy. Happy and relaxed and normal. 

When was the last time Tony openly admitted to being happy? It's been over six months, but the world ended. The universe ended. _Tony ended._ He felt Peter turn to nothing under his hands and watched as Stephen faded away. He held onto Stephen's last words, _there was no other way_ , while they worked themselves to the bone to fix things. Because they had to fix things. Half of the universe had been gone, and Tony had held onto the words of a ghost as they fought to change things. 

Everything is fine now. Everyone is back, the Compound is full, and for the first time...Tony is happy. He can relax and let go, let himself be happy and normal, and it happened without him even realizing it. He's holding a picture in black and white with proof that he's happy, and it sounds sappy but he just feels warmth instead. The kind of warmth he feels when he lets Stephen touch his hair and offer him comfort while he falls asleep. 

_Shit_. When did he fall in love with the wizard?

**.xXx.**

"This is...new." Stephen's voice is quiet, and Tony makes sure the sauce on the stove is simmering nicely before looking over his shoulder. Stephen is standing in front of his fridge, because Tony is cooking in his private rooms instead of in the communal kitchen, and all Tony can really see is Stephen's back. He knows what he's looking at though. He's looking at the picture of the two of them that is now stuck to the fridge with a Spiderman magnet. (They were a gift from Peter and they're functional, so Tony doesn't see the point in throwing them out.)

"Rogers should give up the superhero gig and become a full-time artist. Or maybe we're just unnaturally attractive and therefore always look amazing no matter what," Tony says and turns back to his sauce.

"We are unnaturally attractive?" That is definitely amusement in Stephen's tone, and Tony quietly clears his throat. 

"Everyone looks more attractive next to me. It's the Stark Effect." It's only been two days since Tony woke up on his couch with a blanket draped over him and a Stephen-shaped outline on his bedsheets. Stephen just popped up a few minutes ago, so this is the first time Tony's seen Stephen since his little realization. Little, right. He's convinced himself he's in love with a narcissistic doctor who calls himself Sorcerer Supreme. Maybe he's finally lost it?

"I don't think that's what the Stark Effect is," Stephen says with a low chuckle. He's leaning against the counter next to where Tony is cooking, and Tony raises a single brow as he tries not to smile. He's happy. It feels weird but he's going to roll with it for now. 

"I don't think I like what you're implying," is Tony's counter. Stephen just smiles at him, and Tony thinks he's happy too. Why else would the wizard keep popping up unannounced and uninvited? Logically, there has to be a reason why Stephen keeps showing up. Why he insists on checking in on Tony and helping him sleep by petting his hair, of all things.

"Tony?" The question is quiet and a little concerned, because Tony's just been staring at Stephen's stupidly attractive face.

"I'm going to do something. If it turns out to be a less than intelligent something, use some of your magic mojo to erase our memories or something." Tony can hear himself talking, but it sounds like he's far away. Probably not a good sign, but he's going to take his chances anyway.

"My magic mojo doesn't really work that way. Do I need to explain-"

Stephen is a little bit taller than Tony, but he's leaning against the counter and putting them on eye-level. So it's too easy for Tony to lean forward and tilt his head just so, and then there's a connection. Stephen is still talking so their lips brush before the kiss firms, and it is definitely a kiss now. For a moment, Tony's frozen still. Everything is still, including Stephen, and it lasts just long enough for Tony to wonder if he's miscalculated. Then there's sudden motion and those worries disappear. There's a hand on the back of his neck, fingers curling in the back of his hair, and an arm wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. His own hands are braced against strong shoulders under Stephen's usual cardigan, and Tony's been in this position before but it's never felt this...new. 

"I can hear you thinking." The words are said against Tony's lips, using his air, and he uses his hold on Stephen's shoulders to pull himself up just a little bit so he can press a few quick kisses to Stephen's upper lip.

"What am I thinking now?" Instead of sounding suave or smooth like he'd intended, Tony sounds a little breathless and all they've done is some G-rated kissing. Shouldn't it take more than that to make him feel like this?

"That dinner can wait."

Tony doesn't even think about arguing as the stove is turned off and his spaghetti is covered up, because Stephen turns him so that Tony is the one pressed against the counter. Stephen has both hands in his hair now, holding him where he wants him, and Tony's hands fist in the back of Stephen's shirt as he tries to pull him in even closer. A thumb presses against his chin and coaxes his lips apart, and the kiss deepens as Tony starts to press back. He can't let Stephen have all the fun. 

It takes several long minutes, long minutes of slow exploration and kisses that melt from one to the next, before Tony reaches down to grab Stephen's hips and push him backwards. To make sure that the wizard doesn't get the wrong idea, he nips at Stephen's bottom lip after the first full step backwards and then soothes the sting with a slow swipe of his tongue as he blindly walks them out of the kitchen. The plan is to make it to the bedroom, but he quickly abandons that idea as Stephen lightly pulls on his hair. He steers the taller man towards the couch, feels the jolt when they hit it, and pushes so that Stephen falls to sit in the center. Tony is quick to follow him down, their lips barely even part as Tony easily straddles Stephen's lap, and warm breath fans across his face as Stephen laughs.

"Somethin' funny, Strange?" Tony can't remember the last time he was in this position, straddling someone's lap with his hands braced against shoulders, but it's something he could definitely get used to. 

"It's like being back in high school," Stephen says with a wide smile. Tony leans back a little, looks at the way color has spread from Stephen's cheeks down to his neck, and feels heat warming his own face as blue eyes slowly look him over. 

"Are you complaining?" Tony asks. Stephen slowly shakes his head, and Tony holds his breath as a single finger touches his bottom lip. It really is like high school. He feels...nervous. Not scared-nervous or even worried-nervous. It's an excited kind of nervous.

"No complaining. Are you complaining?" Scarred hands are on his shoulders now, smoothing down his chest and stomach, and he really wishes he wasn't wearing a tee shirt. Even if it is an old worn-thin tee shirt. Because he can feel the heat and pressure of Stephen's hands but not the texture.

"One small complaint." Stephen's hands dip down and then slide up, so that his bare hands are lightly gripping Tony's sides, and then darkened eyes meet his in question. "You're too far away."

"You're a genius. Figure it out." Thumbs press above the line of Tony's jeans as he leans down, and Stephen meets him halfway.

There's nothing soft or exploratory about this kiss. There's teeth dragging against sensitive lips and tongues teasing as they pull at each other, but it's never enough. Tony's got one hand on the side of Stephen's face as he tries to commit the way honeyed tea tastes to memory and the other against Stephen's chest, so he can feel the quickening beat of Stephen's heart. Then hands are grabbing at the backs of his thighs and dragging him closer, and Tony has to pull back to let out a sound that burns his throat. When was the last time he made a sound like _that_? 

"This isn't going to be a- _oh!_ -one time thing, right?" Tony manages to get out. There's a hand pressing against the center of his back under his shirt and another fisted in the back of his hair, and the hold feels...possessive. Just as possessive as the mark that is no doubt being made against the thin skin over the fluttering pulse in his neck.

"Tony." Lips and hair tickle against his skin, and he ducks down to press his forehead against Stephen's. This close, the only thing he can really see is the thin line of blue around Stephen's dilated pupils. "This is not a one time thing. This is an all or nothing thing. Up to you."

"All," Tony decides immediately. He knows what he wants, and he wants the strange wizard who won't leave him alone and has sentient clothing.

"All," Stephen agrees and pulls him into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> There will be one more chapter, which is mostly planned out but please feel free to let me know if there's something you want to see happen in this fluffy story!


End file.
